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SHOWY FOR FUCK 



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A 


JUNIOR PRESS BOOK 

ALBERf^WHITMAN 

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CHICAGO 



Copyright 1934 
By Albert Whitman & Co. 


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NOV 15 


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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

Snowy chose a dozen large oranges . . Frontispiece 

“Snowy,** he called. 9 

Before him was the Mississippi.11 

He rowed toward it.15 

The boy drew himself up.lb 

For hours he would sit on the river bank ... 17 

He was nearly thrown overboard.20 

“You stay here, ma’am,** he ordered .... 21 

The boat looked not unlike a huge water fowl . . 23 

He towed it slowly to the bank.25 

“I want to sell my logs,** he said bluntly ... 27 

He soon had the canvas rolled into a neat bundle . 29 

Snowy chose a dozen large oranges .... 31 

His clothes were stretched out on a small line . . 32 

“That*s fine !*’ he said aloud.35 

He went straight for the old barge .... 39 
He then climbed inside the old boat .... 40 

Snowy looked up quickly . 41, 

“Hello, Snowy!’’.43 

“I was thinking of camping in the old barge, said 

Ancient.45 

Snowy brought in a double supply of wood . . 48 

“Once upon a time I worked in a bank.’’. . . 49 

“There, with a candle in his hand, stood the man- 

” 53 

Snowy gently covered him with both blankets . 54 

“Ancient should have waited for breakfast.’’ . 55 

At once he plunged into the ice-cold water . . 58 

He scrambled over its side.60 

“This is my lucky morning’’.61 















LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS (cont'd) 

Page 

His arrival was soon known.64 

“Bother it!” he muttered.66 

Mr. Wilson grasped his hand and wrung it warmly 69 
“You could teach me lots of things, Snowy.” . . 70 

He was not prepared for such an offer .... 73 

He handed the boy his card.74 

“I wish I could do something,” murmured Snowy . 75 
There, lying flat on the bottom, was Ancient . . 77 

He hurried to the rowboat after the boy ... 80 

Together they carried Ancient to the boat . . 82 

He splashed about for a time.84 

“We hope that you will be happy here.” ... 86 

“Ccme on,” he said briefly, “I’ll show you.” . . 89 

Amos Keeto was a hard master.91 

“I’ll give you a bit of a test.”.93 

Many had tried to break her in.93 

“She’s all right,’’ Keeto agreed, “and well-bred, too” 98 
“I don’t reckon she’s so very wild.” . . . . 100 

Molly bucked—once, twice, thrice! . . . . 101 

“I was the boy who tried to ride the buck-jumping 

donkey.”.104 

“Sh-h! I hear someone talking,” he whispered . 107 

“They are making direct for your father’s place.” . 1 09 

“I’ll send Addison, the new man.”.Ill 

They followed the course of the stream . . . 113 

“But the Indians refused to have anything to do 

with it.”.. 1 17 

The following morning the boys were on the river . 121 

The man was taken by surprise.123 

Behind, the captain towed three barges . . . 126 













TABLE OF CONTENTS 


Chapter 

1—“Snowy” .... 

9 

Chapter 

2—Snowy Moves Camp . 

. 23 

Chapter 

3—The Stranded Barge . 

. 33 

Chapter 

4—Ancient. 

. 43 

Chapter 

5—The Old, Old Story . 

. 49 

Chapter 

6—Eric Again .... 

. 55 

Chapter 

7—The River For Me . 

. 67 

Chapter 

8—Ancient Again . 

. 75 

Chapter 

9—Snowy’s New Life . 

. 86 

Chapter 

10—Eric Learns to Row 

. 106 

Chapter 

1 1 —Eric Goes Exploring . 

. 117 

Chapter 

1 2—Snowy Makes Good . 

. 125 









"SNOWY," HE CALLED. 


“SNOWY” 


S, 


CHAPTER 1 


"LOWLY the boy crept up and hid behind 
a pile of logs that were piled on the river bank. 

“Snowy!” he called, lifting his voice and let¬ 
ting it die gradually away. Without a glance 
to see whether his call had had any effect, he 
darted off as fast as his legs could carry him. 

At what he thought was a safe distance he 
stopped and looked back. He made a trumpet 


9 



of his hands, and again cried, “Snowy! Snowy 
for luck!” 

These were the words he had heard his 
father use only the day before, and, although 
he did not know why white-haired boys were 
supposed to be luckier than those having gin¬ 
ger or black hair, he could not fail to see that 
they suited the white-headed boy. 

Snowy knew that something was expected 
of him, so he shook a grimy fist at his young 
tormentor, causing the boy again to take to his 
heels 

Snowy laughed. Then, settling down again 
on a log, he looked around. Before him was 
the Mississippi, one of America’s greatest riv¬ 
ers—his river—as he loved to think of it. He 
pictured the many other streams that fed the 
mighty river, and its many tributaries. 

Snowy was well known on the river. He 
loved the Mississippi. It was his home, and he 
was never happier than when rowing on its 
waters or camping on its banks. 

The river boy could swim like a fish. He 
would dive into the river at all times, even on 
the coldest of mornings, or when the river was 
running a banker. 














HE WOULD DIVE INTO THE RIVER AT ALL TIMES. 


It cost Snowy little to live. There were fish 
in the river, and duck and other wild fowl 
along its banks. The boy had all the cunning 
of an Indian. To him it was a simple matter to 
catch a fish or snare a bird. What little money 
he needed he earned by collecting the drift¬ 
wood brought down by the stream. This he 
would stack in heaps along the banks. Later 
he would trade it to steamers plying up and 
down the river. 

“Snowy for luck!” 

Snowy glanced up as the cry came to him 
faintly; but there was no sign of the other boy. 


















c r c >> 

onowy 


r ww 


13 


“Silly!” he muttered. “What chance does 
luck have of coming my way? I’m only a waif 
—a river kid.” 

Snowy sighed. For the first time since he 
could remember he was feeling downhearted. 
He could not help comparing the well-dressed 
lads whom he knew with his own ragged self. 
They had nothing to worry them; every com¬ 
fort for which they could wish was theirs. 

As his eyes wandered toward the river, the 
feeling of envy passed. “It’s mine!” he mur¬ 
mured, gazing at the clear water, shining in 
the sun like silver. “Mine!” 

Suddenly he became alert. His keen ears 
had caught the sound of water splashing 
against a distant log. He kept his eyes fixed 
on the bend of the stream, a few hundred yards 
distant. He was waiting for the first sign of 
the floating timber. 

He knew just when to act. Much practice 
had made him expert. It did not take him long 
to reach his boat. He threw in an oar, and 
stepped into the patched-up thing which 
shipped water and threatened to collapse be¬ 
neath him at any moment; and, with the other 
oar, he pushed off from the bank. A few sec- 





14 


"Snowy” for Luck 


onds later he was in midstream, ready to grap¬ 
ple with the tree, the branches of which were 
showing at the bend of the river. The stream 
was in flood. The tree had been torn up by the 
roots and was moving down the stream. 

He rowed toward it, his eyes lighting up 
with glee as he saw its size. Around his waist 
he had coiled a length of light but strong rope. 
He rowed as near to the tree as he thought 
safe, and put down the oars; then, fully 
clothed, dived into the deep water. The boat, 
freed of his weight, and feeling the pull of the 
current, drifted downstream. 

Presently a little white head broke the water 
almost beside the tree. Catching hold of a 
branch, the boy drew himself up. He balanced 
himself on a fork of the tree as he uncoiled 
the rope from his body. 

Farther into the tree, which was being flung 
hither and thither by the force of the waters, 
he climbed. He tied one end of the rope 
around the trunk of the tree and then with the 
other end fastened round his body dived into 
the stream again. He swam to the bank and 
soon had the tree fastened securely to a pile 
driven into the ground. 











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HE ROWED TOWARD IT. 






































































16 


"Snowy” for Luck 



THE BOY DREW HIMSELF UP. 


Snowy next went after his boat. This was 
his most precious possession. He ran along the 
slippery bank and was soon opposite the little 
craft which, almost full of water, was going 
broadside with the stream. Into the water 
went Snowy again. A few strokes and he was 
beside the boat. He gripped one side and drew 
himself into the half-swamped craft. At once 
he began to bail out the water and then, seiz¬ 
ing the oars, he was again master. 

Less than five minutes later he was on the 
bank. He tied up his boat and began to work 





FOR HOURS HE WOULD SIT ON THE RIVER BANK, 



















"Snowy” for Luck 


at the tree. He drew it this way and that. He 
coaxed and, at times, pulled at it with all his 
strength, until at last he had it clear of the 
water. 

With his axe he then lopped off the smaller 
limbs, “tidying up” as he called it. The log 
was one of the biggest he had yet handled, and 
he was proud of its capture. 

So interested was he in his work that he 
failed to notice the return of his little tormen¬ 
tor, Eric Wilson. This boy had recently come 
to the river town with his parents. Everything 
was new to the little fellow. For hours at a 
time he would sit on the river bank, watching 
the steamers and their barges laden with goods 
or lumber, as they passed up and down the 
stream. 

It was here that he had met Snowy. As he 
watched the apparently care-free boy go about 
his little jobs, he was filled with envy. Snowy 
had no home ties, no lessons to be learned, and 
nothing to worry him. Eric thought Snowy’s 
life an ideal one. 

He had returned just in time to see Snowy 
bring in the big tree, work it to the bank, and 
roll it clear of the water. To Eric it all seemed 




''Snowy” 


19 


www wwwwwwwwwwwww 

very easy. He really thought, small though 
he was, that he could do it as well himself. 
How he should like to try! 

At that moment, another log, much smaller 
than the first, was washed round the bend. 

Eric glanced at Snowy. The river boy was 
still so busy with his axe that he had not 
noticed the second log. Eric stole down to the 
water’s edge and pulled in the boat by its 
painter. With a quick glance at Snowy, he 
stepped in. It was the first time he had been 
in a boat, and a spasm of fear went through 
him as the little vessel was cradled by the 
waters. Still he was game. He freed the painter 
and, gripping the oars, tried to use them as he 
had seen Snowy do. Two strokes he made and 
the light craft moved forward; but, dipping 
the oars too deeply on the third stroke, he 
caught them on a submerged log and was 
nearly thrown overboard. 

Eric tried again. The splashing of the oars 
made Snowy look up. A smile overspread his 
freckled face as he saw what Eric was doing. 

“He’s plucky!” he murmured admiringly. 
“I wonder how long he 11 last! 

He laid his axe aside and, folding his arms, 





20 


"Snowy” for Luck 



HE WAS NEARLY THROWN OVERBOARD. 


stood and watched. Suddenly the tree swung 
round and struck the boat on its side, throw¬ 
ing Eric into the water. 

Snowy’s gasp of dismay was lost in a cry 
from behind him. 

“My boy! My boy!” 

It was Eric’s mother. She had caught sight 
of her son just as he disappeared into the water. 
Wringing her hands hopelessly, she ran along 
the edge of the water frantic with fear. 

















“YOU STAY HERE, MA’AM,” HE ORDERED. 


“My boy! My poor boy!” she cried. “He 
will be drowned!” 

Snowy saw that the woman was about to 
jump into the river, so he rushed forward and 
pushed her aside. 




22 


"Snowy” for Luck. 


“You stay here, ma'am,” he ordered, and, 
young though he was, his voice held a note of 
command which she obeyed. “I’ll bring him 
out.” 

The swim was nothing to Snowy. He quickly 
reached the little fellow who was bravely strik¬ 
ing out in his efforts to keep afloat. Snowy put 
a hand beneath the boy and held him up. With 
his free hand he paddled slowly towards the 
bank. 

As he pushed the boy out of the water the 
mother ran forward. She seized the boy in 
her arms. 

“My boy! My little boy!” she cried. 






THE BOAT LOOKED NOT UNLIKE A HUGE WATER FOWL. 


SNOWY MOVES CAMP 


S, 


CHAPTER 2 


_) NOWY did not wait for thanks. He again 
dived into the river and swam, hand over hand, 
until at last he reached his boat. He grasped 
its side and scrambled into it, causing it to 
rock dangerously. 

One oar was missing. This he spied floating 
down the stream, about a hundred yards 


23 





24 


"Snowy” for Luck 


ahead. Using his remaining oar as a paddle, 
working it first on one side and then on the 
other. Snowy went after the escaping oar and 
in a very little while caught it. 

This saved, he turned and looked back at his 
camp. There was no sign of the boy nor of his 
mother. Eric had been hurried off for a change 
of clothes. 

As Snowy rowed back he saw the log which 
the boy had tried to capture. He reached it, 
and, making it feist with a length of rope from 
the boat, he towed it slowly to the bank and 
rolled it up beside the others. 

Toot! Toot! It Weis the shrill whistle of a 
river steamer coming down the river. With a 
glance at the pile of logs he had collected, 
Snowy jumped into his boat and rowed to the 
big flat-bottomed steamboat which looked not 
unlike a huge water fowl skimming the sur¬ 
face of the water. 

He tied his boat to a handy rope and pulled 
himself on board the vessel and sought out 
the captain. 

“I want to sell my logs,” he said bluntly, at 
once getting to business. 

“You do, eh?” The captain smiled as he 





HE TOWED IT SLOWLY TO THE BANK 






26 


"Snowy” for Luck 


looked at the boy’s earnest face. ‘ Why the 
hurry? I’m well stocked at present. Couldn’t 
we let them wait until the return trip? 

Snowy shook his head. “I’ve something 
planned, Captain,” he said mysteriously. I d 
like you to take them now, if you would. 

“Very well, then,” said the captain. 

When he had completed the deal with 
Snowy he handed him several silver coins and 
gave orders to have the logs picked up. 

Snowy winked at a deckhand. He was 
pleased with the deal he had made. He began 
to whistle as the boat slowly pulled over to the 
bank to take on the logs. 

“I’d like to be skipper of a steamer like this,” 
he mused, as he looked at the steamboat with 
its shinning brasswork and well-kept decks. 
“I will!” he breathed. 

When the logs were loaded, Snowy swung 
himself over the side and dropped easily into 
his boat. Standing up, he pushed off, letting 
the boat rock in the backwash of the steamer’s 
paddles. “Yes,” he told himself. “Some day 
I’ll be captain of a boat like that!” 

Sooner or later, Snowy knew that Eric and 
his mother would seek him. He made up his 






‘I WANT TO SELL MY LOGS,” HE SAID BLUNTLY. 































28 


"Snowy” for Luck 


mind to get away from the spot without delay. 

Beginning with his tent, he soon had the 
canvas off and rolled into a neat bundle, which 
he fitted into the prow of the boat. His few 
pots and pans followed, and then his blankets. 
In a very little time, except for the ashes of his 
fire, there was scarcely a mark to show where 
the camp had been. 

He rowed straight for the middle of the 
stream and then turned his boat against the 
current. At the bend he looked back. A man, 
a woman, and a little boy were standing near 
the site of his late camp. 

Snowy breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Just in time!” he said. 

Eric and his parents were searching for him. 
They were seeking Snowy, the river boy, to 
thank him for saving Eric’s life. Snowy for 
luck! 

Snowy sighed. He had not wished to leave 
the place so soon. The spot was a good one for 
his little business. He came to it at the same 
time each season. 

With strong pulls on his oars he caused the 
boat to shoot across to the opposite bank. Here 
grew a big orange tree whose ripe, juicy fruit 





HE SOON HAD THE CANVAS ROLLED INTO A 
NEAT BUNDLE. 



















30 


ff Snowy” for Luck 


hung down over the water, well within reach. 

Snowy chose a dozen large oranges and 
stored them carefully in a little cupboard he 
had built under the seat of the boat. Then, 
taking up the oars, he rowed back to the bend 
in the stream, and again gazed at the place 
where he had camped. 

Eric Wilson had found the heap of ashes. He 
had called his parents to the spot. Snowy saw 
them look up and down the river. 

The river boy allowed the boat to drift into 
the shelter of an overhanging shrub on the 
bank. Here, well hidden from view, he 
watched. 

At last Mr. and Mrs. Wilson and Eric moved 
off. 

“Thank goodness, they’ve gone!” said 
Snowy aloud, “but I can’t go back there for 
awhile!” 

Then, bending to the oars, he began to row 
up the stream. 




-*xz, w> 



SNOWY CHOSE A DOZEN LARGE ORANGES. 



HIS CLOTHES WERE STRETCHED OUT ON A 
SMALL LINE. 
















THE STRANDED BARGE 


I Chapter 3 

T WAS a glorious spring day. The river 
rippled merrily by. On one bank, standing 
high and dry, was an old barge. On the op¬ 
posite side was Snowy’s camp. A fire burned 
brightly. A wire tripod stood over the flames 
and, hanging on a hook, was a pot of meat 
and vegetables which Snowy was making 
into a stew for his dinner. 

In front of the fire was Snowy. It was wash¬ 
ing day, and most of his clothes, scrubbed 
clean and sweet, were stretched out on a small 
line tied between two dwarfed trees. 

Few people passed that way, and the boy 
was not at all afraid of being caught napping. 
There was a streak of the wild man in him. He 
loved to remove most of his clothing and 
scamper around in the warmth of the sun. 

He glanced along the stream to see that there 
were no pleasure or cargo boats coming up or 


33 


34 


"Snowy** for Luck. 


down; then, after lifting the lid of his pot and 
sniffing the savoury smell of the stew, he 
hopped into his boat and rowed to the opposite 
bank. 

Snowy loved the sun. It made him feel very- 
happy. As he pulled the oars, he burst into a 
merry song. 

Tire nose of the boat bumped easily into the 
soft mud and would have rebounded into deep 
water had not the boy jumped out and held it 
by its painter. This he tied to a tree, putting in 
an extra knot to hold it firm. 

He then walked along until he came to a 
young springy tree, which he bent over and 
secured with a piece of string he had brought 
with him. He made a slip knot and a loop. He 
then spread a line of fine raisins leading to the 
loop and tied some of them to the slip knot so 
that duck or other fowl following the trail of 
raisins would release the loop and cause the 
tree to spring back and catch the unwary bird 
in the loop. 

He tested it, and the string tightly gripped 
his finger. After re-setting it and adding a few 
grains of wheat to the raisins in order to make 
the bait very tempting, he walked farther along 




*t 



M 








mm 


















m 
















































36 


"Snowy” for Luck 

to a spot where a willow tree let its leaves 
sweep the surface of the stream. This was a 
good spot for fishing, and baiting a line, Snowy 
cast it into the water. 

He went back to the boat, and, releasing the 
rope that held it, he let it drift gently with the 
current. After a little of this he took an oar 
and rowed first one side and then the other 
until he reached his camp. 

His first thought was for his dinner. He re¬ 
moved the pot in which the meat and vege¬ 
tables were simmering and emptied the con¬ 
tents into a large tin plate. 

“That’s fine!” he said aloud, winking at his 
own reflection thrown back at him from the 
river. 

He washed out the pot and filled it with 
water from the river, and again hung it over 
the fire. From a corner of the boat he took a 
fork and spoon. He also found a slice or two 
of stale bread, which he broke into little pieces 
and added to the dish. 

He sampled the stew and smacked his lips. 
He squatted on a log and, using his knees as a 
table, began his meal. 

Soon the plate was empty; but Snowy’s ap- 




The Stranded Barge 


37 


petite was not satisfied. Dessert was still to 
come. 

Laying aside the plate he went across to the 
pot which by this time was sending out steam 
and splashes of water, as if trying its best to 
put out the fire. 

With a stick he lifted it from the blaze and, 
after pouring a little of the water over the 
greasy tin plate, he placed the pot on the 
ground while he tied a pinch of tea in the 
corner of a piece of cloth. This done, he 
dropped the little bag of tea into the boiling 
water. 

While the tea was drawing, he got out a tin 
of condensed milk and a small jar of jam 
which he himself had made from fruit picked 
along the river banks. Snowy had made 
friends of all the fruitgrowers, and had been 
given permission to take what fruit he needed. 

He cut a thin slice of bread from a loaf and 
spread it thickly with jam. From the pot he 
poured a little of the tea into a tin mug, into 
which he stirred a big spoonful of milk and the 
same quantity of sugar. 

When the meal was over he washed up the 
few dishes and packed them away. By this 






38 


'Snowy” for Luck 


time his clothes were dry. He put them on. 
“Now,” he laughed, “I’m ready for visitors!” 

Some time later, Snowy again stepped into 
the boat and began to paddle slowly across to 
the other side of the river. This time he went 
straight for the old barge, which he regarded 
as part and parcel of his own life. 

The barge was a mystery. As long as could 
be remembered, it had been stuck hard and 
fast in the mud. No one knew to whom it 
belonged, and no one cared. 

Years and years before, so it was said, when 
the river was higher than it had ever been in 
the memory of the oldest person there, the 
barge, quite empty, had floated down the 
stream. It had been caught by a snag and, 
the water suddenly dropping, it had been held 
firmly in the river mud. 

Snowy made great use of the barge. He 
often spread his tent over it and used it as a 
camping site. This was in the wintertime 
when the weather was cold and frosty. He 
would never pass without giving it a call. 

He looked round to see that there was no 
one about. He then climbed inside the old 
boat and danced on its timbers. He took 








































































HE THEN CLIMBED INSIDE THE OLD BOAT. 


something from his pocket and opened a cun¬ 
ning little door between two of the boards. 

The barge had a double bottom into which, 
for some reason, a secret compartment had 
been built. This was hidden by a little trap¬ 
door fitted with a spring, and, though the 









SNOWY LOOKED UP QUICKLY. 







42 "Snowy” for Luck 

barge was very old, the little door still worked 
with a sharp snap. 

Snowy had found the door by accident, and 
had made it his bank. Here, he felt, his little 
store of money was quite safe. Even should 
anyone visit the barge, it would have taken 
sharp eyes to find the secret hiding-place. 

Snowy was saving up. There were many 
things he wanted before the winter drew on. 
His blankets were thin and worn, and he 
needed a new coat to shield him from the 
cold. 

He opened the little door and took out a 
little bag of coins. 

“Three dollars!” he counted, with a satis¬ 
fied nod. “Good! That means a new coat.” 

He had replaced the money and was shut¬ 
ting the door when he heard a foot step on 
the deck of the barge. He snapped the door 
closed and stood upon it, as a shadow fell 
across him. 

Snowy looked up quickly and saw a man 
staring at him over the side of the boat. 






"HELLO, SNOWY.P 

ANCIENT 


W, 


CHAPTER 4 


ELL!” said Snowy sharply, ready, 
if need be, to do battle for his little store. 

“Hello, Snowy!” 

“Why, bless me, it’s old Ancient.” Snowy’s 
face was all smiles. “I haven’t seen you for a 
long time. How are you getting along?” 

The old man shook his head. “I’m not too 


43 



44 "Snowy” for Luck 

good, lad, I sometimes feel as if I m not long 
for this world.’’ 

“Don’t say that. Buck up! Just look at the 
sun. Doesn’t it make you feel good?” The 
boy scrambled on to the deck of the barge and 
took the old man’s hands in his. 

“Perhaps you’re hungry,” he suggested. 

“Maybe!” was the reply. A look of cun¬ 
ning passed over the old man’s face. What 
were you doing in the old tub, lad? 

Snowy glanced suspiciously at the ques¬ 
tioner. There was something in the query 
which he did not like. 

“Just poking about,” he answered vaguely. 

“There’s nothing much about the old barge, 
though, is there, Snowy?” 

“I sometimes camp here. I was seeing if it 
was all right,” was the boy’s reply. 

“There are stories told that it used to be an 
old treasure boat, in days gone by. It be¬ 
longed to the Spaniards. It was washed up 
by a huge tidal wave.” 

Snowy thought of the little hiding-place and 
the treasure that lay in it. 

“I’ve heard that story dozens of times,” he 
said, “but I think it must be a fairy yarn. I’ve 







“I WAS THINKING OF CAMPING IN THE OLD 
BARGE,” SAID ANCIENT. 























46 


"Snowy” for Luck 


never found any treasure here.” He was a 
little suspicious of the man, and felt tempted 
to go back and remove the money. But that 
is silly,” he thought. “The old chap s all 
right.” 

The day was warm, yet Ancient shivered. 
Snowy felt sorry for the old man who like 
himself was an outcast with no one to care 
for him. He blamed himself for thinking evil 
of Ancient. 

“You must have tea with me,” he said with 
a smile. “And stay the night, too, if you like. 
I haven’t much to offer you, but it’s better 
than nothing. You’ll be company for me too, 
Ancient. There are times when I’d give my 
little finger just to have someone to speak to.” 

“I was thinking of camping in the old 
barge,” said Ancient, glancing back. “It 
makes a good shelter these times.” 

“Don’t do that,” said Snowy quickly. 
“There is plenty of room in my tent. It’s 
weatherproof. You can have one of my blan¬ 
kets, too.” 

Anxiously Snowy awaited the other’s re¬ 
ply. For a moment he thought that Ancient 
was going to refuse. In that case, he would 




Ancient 


47 


certainly return to the barge and remove his 
money. However, Ancient decided for the 
tent and they moved off together. 

“You’re a good lad. Snowy,—too good for 
this life,” said the old man, looking at the boy 
trudging along by his side. “I was not always 
like this, and I know. There was a time 
when—” 

“Tell me the story, please, as we go along. 
I haven’t heard a story for ages.” 

They reached Snowy’s boat. The old man 
seemed so feeble that the boy put his arm 
around him and helped him in. 

“Come on,” he pleaded, “tell me the story 
of your life. Before we cross the river.” 

“Not now, lad.” Ancient looked hard at 
the water as it swirled about the nose of the 
boat. “Perhaps tonight, after tea,” he added, 
as Snowy pushed off from the bank. 

The river boy was not prepared for com¬ 
pany, but he made the best of things. He fried 
a couple of thick slices of bread in some fat 
he had saved, and placed this beside the fire 
to keep warm while he brewed a steaming 
hot can of tea. Then there was the jam, with 
a nice, juicy orange to top off the lot. 




48 


"Snowy” for Luck 


The meal over, and the few dishes cleared 
away, the two drew up to the fire. As the 
night was inclined to be cold, Snowy brought 
in a double supply of wood. 

Ancient sucked at an empty pipe and 
stretched himself before the fire. Snowy 
curled himself up only a few feet away. 

“Now, spin that yarn, please! he urged. 



SNOWY BROUGHT IN A DOUBLE SUPPLY OF WOOD. 





“ONCE UPON A TIME I WORKED IN A BANK.” 


THE OLD, OLD STORY 


A, 


CHAPTER 5 


.NCIENT began: “Snowy, lad, I hardly 
like to tell you. I know you’ll think badly of 
I’m not a good man, my boy, and after 


me 


hearing what I have to say you may despise 
me. But here goes. 

“Once upon a time I worked in a bank. I 


49 






50 


■ww 


"Snowy” for Luck 


was older than you are, lad, but not so tall. 
I thought a lot of myself in those days, I can 
tell you, and for a time I worked hard to please 
my employers. 

“They saw how eager I was to get on,” he 
went on after a pause, “and helped me all 
they could. I soon found myself in a high 
position—one of trust. Snowy, I had to 
handle more money in one day than many 
people see in all their lives—bags so full of 
coins, lad, that you couldn’t lift them.” 

“Yes, Ancient?” urged Snowy as the man 
stopped. “And you had charge of all that 
money, eh?” 

Ancient leaned forward, his face cupped in 
his hands. His eyes were fixed on the glowing 
embers. 

Yes, lad, he said. “For a time it was all 
right. I did everything I should and was very 
careful. My mother was very pleased with 
the way I was getting on, and—” 

“I wish I had a mother, Ancient,” said 
Snowy sadly. “I had one once, you know, 
just like other boys. But she is dead, and my 
father is too. I’m the only one left,” he sighed. 

“Yes, I know, lad. Well, to get on with the 





The Old, Old Story 


51 


story. I got into bad company. It’s the same 
old story. To pay off my debts I helped my¬ 
self to some of the bank’s money—just a little, 
Snowy, and—” 

“You—you stole it, Ancient? You took 
something that wasn’t yours?” Snowy was 
horrified. 

“Yes, lad, I did. But I meant to put it back. 
Truly, I did, I wanted it for only a few days. 
But I didn’t put it back. Instead, I took more. 
Then one day I found a key. I knew it well. 
It was one of the keys to the safe, and be¬ 
longed to the manager. There were two keys 
needed to open the safe. 

“I looked round quickly. No one had seen 
me pick it up, so I slipped the key into my 
pocket and said nothing. A wild idea came 
to me. I made up my mind to come back that 
night and steal a lot more of the bank’s 
money. 

“And, Snowy, I did. I knew just how to get 
into the building without being seen. I need 
not tell you how I schemed to get the other 
key. I got it, however, and soon had the safe 
open. I was filling a bag I had brought along 
with coins when I heard a noise.” 




52 


'Snowy” for Luck 


Snowy never moved. To him it was not a 
pretty story, and he was sorry the old man 
had told him. 

“I looked up,” Ancient continued. “There, 
with a candle in his hand, stood the mana¬ 
ger. To save myself I hit him on the head 
with the bag of money. He dropped to the 
floor and I ran away. But they caught me, 
lad, and brought me up before the court. 

“The manager was badly injured and had 
to stay in bed for a long time. I was tried and 
found guilty . . . Jail is a terrible place. 
Snowy. It broke my poor mother’s heart, and 
she died soon after I was sent to prison. 
There you are, Snowy, you know the story.” 

“I’m sorry for you, Ancient,” said the boy 
quietly. “You shouldn’t have taken what 
belonged to others, though. It was wrong. 
Everybody knows that.” 

“Well, I’m suffering enough for it,” said the 
man bitterly. “Anyway, that’s the yarn. I 
think I shall go to bed now, if you don’t 
mind.” 

After the old man had fallen asleep by the 
fire, Snowy gently covered him with both 
blankets. 




"THERE, WITH A CANDLE IN HIS HAND, STOOD 
THE MANAGER. 















54 


"Snowy” for Luck 



SNOWY GENTLY COVERED HIM WITH 
BOTH BLANKETS. 


“Poor old Ancient!” he said. “I’m very, 
very sorry for him. But he shouldn’t have 
taken the money.” 

His thoughts went to his own secret hoard, 
hidden in the old barge. 

He glanced at the old man, who was sleep¬ 
ing peacefully. “I’ll get it in the morning,” he 
resolved. “I suppose it’s all right, but it is just 
as well to be sure.” 






“ANCIENT SHOULD HAVE WAITED 
FOR BREAKFAST.” 


ERIC AGAIN 


CHAPTER 6 

HE first beam of light was barely vis¬ 


ible in the eastern sky before Snowy was 
awake. He believed in the maxim, “Early to 
bed, early to rise.” He loved to be out at the 
first streak of dawn, to listen to the singing of 


55 







the birds of the bush as they greeted the new 
day. 

For a moment or two he had forgotten all 
about his visitor of the previous night. He 
stretched out his arms and yawned. He felt 
cold and stiff. Then he remembered. He had 
given his blankets to Ancient. 

“Wake up,” he cried, turning to where he 
had left the old man. 

There was no reply. 

“Why, he has gone!” Snowy was sur¬ 
prised. “Fancy Ancient beating me like that! 
Perhaps he has the fire going.” 

But this was not so. The remains of the fire 
were still covered with the ashes which 
Snowy had heaped on the glowing charcoal 
the night before. 

“That’s strange,” he said. “Ancient should 
have waited for breakfast.” 

Snowy recalled the story the old man had 
told him. “Poor old Ancient!” he murmured. 
“He has had a hard life of it.” 

Snowy’s next thought was for the trap he 
had set and the line he had cast on the pre¬ 
vious day. “I wonder if I’ve caught any¬ 
thing! A tender young duck would go well 
for dinner.” 





57 


Eric Again 

He hurried out. “Now, who has taken my 
boat?” he cried. “That’s a nice trick to play 
on a chap.” 

He felt concerned over the loss of his boat. 
He shook his head, his long, fair hair waving 
in the wind. Though his little craft was not 
of much value it meant a lot to him. He 
shaded his eyes and looked across the stream. 

“Why, there it is, tied up!” he said aloud. 

At once he plunged into the ice-cold water 
and began to swim across. Half way over, he 
held his breath and rested. 

“I wonder if old Ancient took the boat!” 
he thought. “And why?” 

Striking out again he soon reached the 
other side. Yes, there was his boat. It was 
fastened to a stump and both oars were in it. 

Of Ancient there was not a sign. Snowy 
untied the boat and rowed back towards the 
old barge. 

“It does look a little bit like an old-time 
ship,” he said. “I wonder if at one time it was 
sailed by the Spaniards or the Dutch in search 
of new lands? Is that story of its being an 
old-time treasure boat true? Anyway, how 
did it drift up the river against the current? 





.If 


































































































































































































































59 


Eric Again 

Perhaps it was brought up by the pirates!” 

He shook his head. He well knew that the 
river had once flowed over a different course. 
The old course of the stream had been pointed 
out to him by some Indians he had made 
friends with; but he could not see how a boat 
as big as the barge could have come up so 
many miles from the sea. 

He reached the barge and scrambled over 
its side. Hurrying to the little hiding-place, 
he pressed the hidden spring, causing the door 
to fly open. 

The money was not there! 

His thoughts at once went to the story told 
him by Ancient the night before. 

“That’s it!” he cried. “Ancient saw me 
here yesterday, and he came out early and 
took the money. Once a thief, always a 
thief!” 

The loss of the money meant a lot to Snowy, 
who knew he would have to go without the 
things he had so wished to buy. The badly 
needed coat would have to remain in the shop. 

“Oh, well!” he said, swallowing the lump 
that came into his throat, “perhaps Ancient 
needed it more than I did.” 



60 


"Snowy” for Luck 



HE SCRAMBLED OVER ITS SIDE. 

With a last long glance at the place which 
for many a day had been his bank, he slowly 
crawled to the deck of the barge. He stood 
up and looked about him. 

Suddenly he jumped to the ground and 
started to run. A few yards ahead was the 
trap he had set. In it was caught a fine, fat, 
young duck. 

Snowy lost no time in getting the duck, and 









“THIS IS MY LUCKY MORNING!’ 








62 "Snowy” for Luck 

then went on to find that there was a fish on 
his line. 

“Hurrah!” he cried. “This is my lucky 
morning. Snowy for luck! I wish old Ancient 
were here to share this with me. Why didn’t 
he ask me for the money, if he wanted it?” 

The duck, nicely roasted, tasted good, but 
it was too much for one meal. The thick, 
white flesh of the fish, too, was delicious. 
What was left over, Snowy carefully packed 
away in the boat. 

He had a place in his boat for everything, 
and he had so worked out things that in a 
very little time he had the tent down and all 
his other things packed away. 

In midstream he paused, and then turned 
his boat with the current. Lying full length, 
one hand on the string of the rudder to keep 
it straight, the boy drifted along easily. 

The warm sun played over him. It was 
glorious. He felt as if he could lie there and 
drift along forever. 

He turned on his side, and, leaning over, let 
one of his hands play in the cool water. Cup¬ 
ping his hand, he brought some of the water 
to his mouth. 




63 


Eric Again 

“Fine!” he thought. 

For hours he drifted along. “Another 
mile,” he said, glancing at the bank, “and I 
shall be round the bend.” 

He was making for his old camp which he 
had left after having rescued Eric Wilson 
from the river. He knew that he would find 
other river people there as it was a favorite 
camping place for them. 

“It ought to be safe enough now,” said 
Snowy. He felt sure that Eric’s parents would 
not be there now to embarrass him with their 
thanks for his rescue. “And it’s a great spot 
for business,” he added to himself. 

At last he roused himself. Before him was 
the bend in the stream—almost an elbow— 
beyond which was the place where he intend¬ 
ed to camp. 

He put the oars in the locks and dipped 
them into the water. He bent forward once, 
and the little boat shot ahead and rounded the 
turn. A few minutes later he was unloading 
his boat. 

His arrival was soon known to the camp of 
river people, and he was greeted on all sides 
as most of these river people were his friends. 



A 
SR 


;Jk 







i 


HIS ARRIVAL WAS SOON KNOWN. 





65 


Eric Again 

“Snowy for luck!” shouted someone. 

Snowy nodded his head. “Caught a big fish 
this morning,” he remarked casually, nod¬ 
ding toward the boat where the fish and duck 
lay side by side. 

“Good for you, boy,” said someone, pat¬ 
ting him on the back. 

“Easy on the back-slapping, lad,” said 
Snowy. “My back is a bit sunburnt.” 

He worked in silence for a while, not heed¬ 
ing the watching crowd. 

“I say,” he called to one, “have you seen 
Ancient? He wasn’t looking well when I last 
saw him. He’s getting too old for the river, 
I think.” 

No one had seen the old man. 

“I suppose he’ll turn up again some day,” the 
boy remarked, as he tied the last rope of his 
tent. “There, that’s done! I shall be as snug 
as a prince. Now for tea.” 

He had scarcely gone inside his tent when 
he heard a cry. “It’s Snowy! It’s Snowy!” 

Snowy started back. 

“Bother it!” he muttered. He hurried out 
and began to take down his tent, but it was 
too late. 





66 "Snowy” for Luck 



“If it isn’t Eric!” he said, seeing that there 
was no escape. 

He grabbed the boy. “Look here!” he said. 
“Don’t tell your mother or father that I am—” 
But Eric had wriggled free and had rushed 
outside. 

“Father, Mother, quick! Here’s Snowy. 
Snowy for luck!” 







THE RIVER FOR ME 


H 


CHAPTER 7 


_ _.ERE’S Snowy!” said Eric, urging his 

parents forward. “Quick, here he is! 

There was only one way for Snowy to get 
away and he took it, disappearing just as the 
others came up. 

“Oh!” cried Mrs. Wilson, startled as she saw 
the boy dive into the stream. He has gone. 
He’ll be drowned.” 

Eric laughed. “Don’t worry, Mother. 
Snowy is all right. He’s like a fish in the 
water.” 

Despite Eric’s tone, however, Mrs. Wilson 
breathed more freely when, some time later, 
the surface of the water was broken by the 
fair head of the river boy. 

“Come here, sonny!” called Eric’s father, 
kindly. “I want to speak to you. 

Snowy treaded water for a moment, as if 
wondering what he had better do. 


67 


68 


"Snowy” for Luck 


“All right,” he shouted back, and at once 
began to splash slowly towards the bank. 

Dripping wet, he came out of the water, 
Mr. Wilson grasped his hand and wrung it 
warmly. “Boy,” he said, “a few days ago you 
did me a service which I shall never be able 
to repay.” 

“Don’t, please, Mister,” said Snowy, shak¬ 
ing his head. “It was nothing.” 

There was no rudeness in his voice. 

Eric’s mother drew Snowy to her. He was 
still wet, but she did not mind. Round his 
neck went her arms, and she kissed him, and 
kissed him again. 

“We want you to come and live with us,” 
she said. 

Eric danced with glee. “Yes, do, Snowy,” 
he urged. “Come on. You can be my big 
brother, and we’ll have great times together. 
You can teach me to swim, and fish and—” 

Snowy looked from one to another. It felt 
so nice to have arms round his neck and to 
know that there was someone who really 
cared for him. 

“I didn’t do anything at all!” he protested. 
“He was game to venture in. I only pulled 
him out. That was all.” 





MR. WILSON GRASPED HIS HAND AND WRUNG 
IT WARMLY. 




















70 



“YOU COULD TEACH ME LOTS OF THINGS, SNOWY.” 


Mr. Wilson placed his hand on the lad’s 
shoulder and looked into his eyes. 

I wish you would let us do something for 
you! he said. Wouldn t you like to live 
with us?” 

“And sleep on a real bed, and learn to read 
and write,” added Eric, who thought that per¬ 
haps the best side of the picture was not being 
presented. “You could teach me lots of 
things, Snowy.” 



71 


The River for Me 

“I should arrange for you to learn a trade, 
and later I would set you up in business,” Mr. 
Wilson continued. 

Snowy looked down at the ground; with 
his bare toes he began to trace little drawings 
in the soft mud. Mrs. Wilson’s arms were still 
round his neck. It was great! They were 
treating him—Snowy, the river boy—as one 
of themselves—as an equal. They wished to 
do something for him, to help him. 

To him, it was like a dream. Why should 
these people wish to do so much for him, just 
because he had pulled their little boy out of 
the river? It had been quite easy for him; had 
it been a log, now, he felt he might have had 
something to talk about. 

Poor Snowy! Poor homeless boy! He had 
been so used to battling for himself that when 
the hand of love was held out to him he failed 
to understand what it meant. 

Eric, seeing him hesitate, caught one of the 
boy’s hands in his and squeezed it fondly. 

“I love you, Snowy,” he said pleadingly. 
“We all love you!” 

Snowy looked up and smiled. “Thank 
you,” he said quietly. 




72 


'Snowy” for Luck 


He drew himself from them and walked up 
and down the river bank. He was not pre¬ 
pared for such an offer. On the other hand 
there was what he longed for—a comfortable 
home, a good education, and possibly a posi¬ 
tion in life which would be the envy of many. 
On the other hand there was the river. 

At last he came back to the little group 
which stood waiting for his reply. 

“I’m glad I was able to fish out the little 
chap for you,” he said. “And I thank you for 
what you have offered me. Perhaps I am 
wrong.” He stopped and sighed. “But,” he 
went on, looking Eric’s father straight in the 
face, “if it’s all the same to you, sir, the river’ll 
do for me.” 

“I’m sorry that you won’t let us do some¬ 
thing for you, lad. But it is not for me to force 
you. Are you sure there is no way in which 
I can help you?” 

Snowy shook his head. “I have everything 
I want, thank you.” 

“Lucky boy,” remarked Mr. Wilson, with 
a smile. “I’m afraid there are not many such 
as you in the world.” 

He produced a card-case and handed the 








HE WAS NOT PREPARED FOR SUCH AN OFFER. 





































74 "Snowy” for Luck 



HE HANDED THE BOY HIS CARD. 


boy his card. “Here is my address; if you 
should think better of it at any time, you must 
let me know at once.” 

Without a glance at it Snowy dropped the 
card into the pocket of his trousers. 

“Very well, sir.” There was a lump in his 
throat as he spoke. “Goodbye, and thank 
you.” 

He turned quickly away. For the first time 
since he was a little lad there were tears in 
his eyes. 







“I WISH I COULD DO SOMETHING,” 
MURMURED SNOWY. 


ANCIENT AGAIN 


s 


CHAPTER 8 


'NOWY did not enjoy his meal that eve¬ 
ning. He felt that, in refusing the help that 
had been offered him, he had lost a great deal. 

Until far into the night he pondered the 
question, and then fell asleep to dream that he 


75 





76 "Snowy” for Luck 


was a great man living in a big house like a 
palace. 

For once the morning was well advanced 
before Snowy awoke. From outside came the 
merry chirp, chirp of a honeyeater, together 
with the musical call of a larger bird. 

“I must have overslept,” thought the boy, as 
he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and squared 
his shoulders. “This won’t do.” He jumped 
up and cut a slice of bread from a loaf and 
ate it dry. 

‘Til have to leave here,” he muttered, as he 
looked around. “I shall go back to the old 
barge and stay there—for a while, at any 
rate.” 

He lost no time in packing up and soon was 
pulling his heavilydadened boat against the 
strong current of the river. 

After several hours’ hard rowing, he 
stopped and rested. Everything seemed to be 
out of gear. Even the singing of the bush birds, 
which hitherto had been his constant delight, 
failed to move him. He felt weary and tired. 

“There must be something the matter,” he 
said aloud. “I shouldn’t like to get sick.” 

In a little while he again set out and after 






THERE, LYING FLAT ON THE BOTTOM, 
WAS ANCIENT. 






























78 


"Snowy” for Luck 


hard rowing he reached the barge late in the 
afternoon. As he drew up to the barge he 
heard a low moan. Snowy looked around, but 
as there was no one in sight, began to grow 
alarmed. “I’m beginning to hear things!’’ he 
muttered. 

Just then he heard another moan. 

Snowy stepped out, tied his boat to a stump, 
and ran toward the barge. He pulled himself 
up to the smooth, water-washed deck and 
looked inside. There lying flat on the bottom, 
was Ancient. 

“Hello!’’ greeted Snowy, as he jumped in. 
Quietly lifting the head of the old man he pil¬ 
lowed it on his lap. “What’s wrong with 
you?’’ he asked. 

“Snowy, lad,’’ said Ancient feebly. “I’m 
very sick.’’ 

“That’s bad news. Just wait a bit and I’ll 
get you something to eat. You look hungry. 

Away ran the boy to the boat. With some 
dry twigs and pieces of wood he soon had a 
fire going. He warmed up what was left of 
some broth he had saved from a previous meal 
and brought it to the old man. 

“Drink this,’’ he commanded, as he brought 
back the steaming liquid. 




Ancient Again 


79 


Ancient tried to rise, but he was too weak. 
Snowy placed the broth on the bottom of the 
barge and gently lifted the old man into a sit¬ 
ting position; then, taking the spoon, he fed 
him as he would a baby. 

After Ancient had taken all the broth, 
Snowy got some water from the river and 
washed the old man’s face and hands. 

My word, Ancient, your skin is hot,” he 
said. 

“Yes, lad, the fever has got me this time, 
I’m afraid. I don’t think I shall pull through. 
Snowy, I have been a bad man all my life.” 

The old man really seemed quite ill and 
Snowy was alarmed. 

“I wish I could do something,” murmured 
Snowy. “What could I do?” 

He thought for a while. “I know,” he al¬ 
most shouted. “I’ll go for help. Mr. Smith, 
the farmer, lives only a few miles from here. 
I’ll bring him along.” 

He tiptoed off to his boat and began to un¬ 
pack. He piled everything in a heap on the 
bank; then, with a sweep of the oars, he 
pushed off. In less than an hour he had 
reached the farmer’s house. He ran up the 
pathway and knocked loudly at the door. 






HE HURRIED TO THE ROWBOAT AFTER THE BOY. 









































































Ancient Again 


81 


“Come quickly and help Ancient, Mr. 
Smith,” he urged breathlessly. “He’s very 
sick.” 

The farmer knew Snowy, he also knew 
Ancient, so waiting only to explain things to 
his wife, he hurried to the rowboat after the 
boy. Each took an oar and they soon com¬ 
pleted the return journey. 

“Snowy!” called the old man faintly. 
“Snowy, don’t leave me.” 

Both the boy and Mr. Smith hurried for¬ 
ward. “Here’s someone come to help you, 
old ’un,” Snowy explained, trying to be cheer¬ 
ful. “You’ll soon be all right now.” 

“Snowy!” called the old man faintly, 
weak. “It was I who stole your money. I’m 
sorry. Will you forgive me?” 

“Yes, Ancient, of course! What’s mine is 
yours, you know,” said Snowy. “Aren’t we 
partners? Share and share alike, and all that. 
There isn’t anything to forgive. You just 
brace up and get better.” 

The old man took Snowy’s hand in his and 
closed his eyes. 

Together Mr. Smith and Snowy carried the 
sick man to the boat. 




iliilte ii hfty-Vt toiwhttWi nA—< »>r-<w « Wa , W' ,- r n >> ^ IMBB MM 
















Ancient Again 


83 


“He’ll pull through,” said Mr. Smith. “I 
shall get a doctor for him.” 

Snowy helped to row the boat to Mr. 
Smith’s place and to carry the old man up to 
the house. He then returned to where he had 
left his belongings. This time his stay at the 
barge was short. Everything seemed to have 
changed. Something seemed to draw him 
back to his old camping-ground. He felt sick 
at heart, so, after repacking his things in the 
boat, he got in and just let it drift with the 
current. 

The tears would come as he thought of the 
lonely old man who was so sick. He had 
known him for a long time. Like himself, 
Ancient had no other home but the river. 

Snowy recalled the story the man had told 
him, the story of his early life, and how he had 
failed. He had had a chance to make good in 
life, and he had abused it. Snowy, too, had 
had a chance, and he had cast it aside! What 
would be the end of him? 

As the boat floated slowly down the river. 
Snowy’s mind was busy. He was fighting a 
great battle, one which few boys of his age 
are called upon to fight. At last Snowy made 
his decision. 



84 


"Snowy” for Luck 



HE SPLASHED ABOUT FOR A TIME. 


“I’ll do it!” he cried aloud. 

After a bit of searching, he found the card 
which Mr. Wilson had given him and slowly 
spelled out the address. 

“Why,” he cried excitedly, “It’s that new 
house along the river. I’ll be there in a few 
minutes!” 

Now that his decision was made Snowy was 
happy; he sang as he plied his shoulders to the 
oars: 



















Ancient Again 


85 


"On the Mississippi, dear old Mississippi, 
That’s where I was born.” 

He steered the boat toward the right bank 
of the stream and, after making sure that no 
one was about, he stripped off his few clothes 
and dived into the cool water where he 
splashed about for a time. Then after drying 
himself with the remains of an old towel, he 
put on his clothes, and, with the aid of an 
almost toothless comb, he succeeded in coax¬ 
ing his hair into some order. 

His face was beaming, his fight with him¬ 
self was over. Snowy meant to accept Mr. 
Wilson’s offer. He had had enough of a 
lonely life, now he was sure that he wanted 
friends—and love. 

A little later, while he was tying up his boat 
before a large stone house, he heard a well- 
known voice. 

“It’s Snowy!” 

Eric Wilson had caught sight of his hero. 
“Hurrah! He has come! I knew he would. 
Good old Snowy! Snowy for luck!” 






SNOWY’S NEW LIFE 

I CHAPTER 9 

T’S grand to have you with us, Snowy,” 
said Eric as he gazed searchingly into the face 
of the boy who faced him. “You’re not sorry 
you came, are you?” he asked, anxiously. 
“We are going to have great times together.” 


86 





Snowy’s New Life 


87 


“I am—a little,” Snowy admitted as his eyes 
went to the river. It had been a big wrench 
to leave the stream he loved but smiled and 
said, “I’ll soon get over it, I know I will.” 

Eric lost little time in taking his friend 
inside. “Father! Mother!” he cried. “Here’s 
Snowy. He is going to live with us. I just 
knew he would,” he added. 

Mr. Wilson smiled and held out a hand. “I 
am glad, my boy, that you decided to come 
to us,” he said. “You won’t regret having 
availed yourself of our offer. Nor will you 
find us hard taskmasters. We hope that you 
will be happy here.” 

“I—I love the river, sir,” Snowy said sol¬ 
emnly. “It has always been a good friend to 
me, and—and it looks as if I were leaving it 
by coming here.” 

“But are you leaving it, my boy? You think 
you have mastered the stream, whereas you 
have merely been lucky—Snowy for luck, eh? 
How would you like to captain a vessel of 
your own?” 

“Mr. Wilson! Sir!” Tears welled from the 
lad’s eyes at the thought. “That could never 
be possible, yet I once said I would, and I 
meant it at the time. I’m only— 



88 


"Snowy” for Luck 

“Anything is possible to him who has the 
will to do,” Mr. Wilson urged. “Here is my 
proposition. My son, Eric, needs a boy of your 
age and disposition to take him in hand. He 
is not used to these parts, and you are. I am 
satisfied that you are trustworthy, and I be¬ 
lieve that you like my son.” 

“Like him? Mr. Wilson, I love Eric,” Snowy 
said feelingly. “I’d do anything for him, sir. 
He is game for anything,” he added, suddenly 
remembering his first meeting with the boy. 

I want you to be a friend of Eric’s always; 
to teach him what you know of the river; to 
row and to swim and all those things.” 

I should like to, Snowy said quietly. 

“In return,” Mr. Wilson said, “I shall have 
you educated so that you can get your river 
pilot’s certificate. Are you agreeable?” 

A look of determination came into the river 
boy’s eyes. “I am, sir. A river pilot! With 
perhaps my own river vessel! Gee, that 
sounds wonderful. It’s a dream, surely.” 

“A dream that will one day be a reality, I 
am sure,” Mr. Wilson observed. “We won’t 
bother about study for a few days; that will 
give you a chance to get used to things here. 
Eric will show you around, I know. 



"COME ON," HE SAID BRIEFLY, "I'LL SHOW YOU,” 





















90 


'Snowy” for Luck 


Show Snowy around! Eric was almost 
bursting with eagerness to do so. It was al¬ 
most too good to believe that the river boy 
had actually decided to accept his father s 
offer. 

“Come on,” he said briefly, ‘Til show you.” 

Mr. Wilson had quite a lot of land that 
fronted on the river and extended back for 
over two miles. Cattle grazed on the rich 
flats, while many acres were given over to the 
growing of cotton and maize. 

“This,” said Eric, as he approached a man 
who had just flung himself from a broncho, 
“is Mr. Keeto, Father’s new manager—Mr. 
Amos Keeto,” he added. 

Snowy grinned broadly. “Buzz and I are 
old friends,” he said. 

“And not too much of the ‘Buzz’,” warned 
Mr. Keeto but he smiled and said, “Yes, Eric, 
I’ve known Snowy since he was a bit of a kid. 
What’s he doing round here? Have you 
grown tired of the river, boy?” he asked, as 
he turned suddenly from Eric to Snowy. 

The river boy sighed. “No,” he answered, 
after a while, “but I’ve—” 

“He is coming to live with us, Mr. Keeto,” 
Eric explained. “To teach me all he knows.” 




AMOS KEETO WAS A HARD MASTER. 




















92 "Snowy” for Luck 

“And that isn’t much,” Keeto said. “Buzz, 
indeed!” he murmured. 

Eric was inclined to be indignant for a 
while. In his opinion his friend was about per¬ 
fection in all things. 

Amos Keeto was a hard master, demanding 
the very best from all who worked under him. 
Even Eric, when he undertook a task, must 
keep up to the mark. Keeto criticized him 
when his work did not come up to the stan¬ 
dard expected by the foreman, and praised 
him when he thought the boy had done his 
best. 

Eric was all impatience to coax his new 
friend down to the river. He wanted to get 
into Snowy’s boat and learn to row, as his 
father had suggested. He was leading the way 
to the stream when Snowy motioned to him 
to stop and listen. Mr. Keeto was talking to 
a fresh faced youth. 

“Can you ride?” he asked the lad. 

“That’s a new hand,” Eric explained. “That 
is, I don’t know whether he has been engaged 
or not. He called last night and asked for 
work.” 

Snowy nodded. “Old Buzz is putting him 





93 


Snowy’s New Life 



“I'LL GIVE YOU A BIT OF A TEST." 


through his paces,” he suggested, with inter¬ 
est. He knew Keeto better even than Eric did, 
and scented something good. 

“He looks as if he has just come from col¬ 
lege,” Eric said, also growing interested. “I 
wish I were as old as he. Look at his 
shoulders.” 

“You will be, some day—and as strong,” 
Snowy declared. 

“Can I ride?” the youth said, facing Keeto 





94 


"Snowy” for Luck 


bravely. “I can ride anything on four legs.” 
He hitched up his trousers and drew nearer 
to his questioner. 

“Can you, now?” Keeto snorted. “I’ve met 
your sort before. You’re a boaster, that’s all. 
Anyway, we need an extra hand. I’ll give you 
a bit of a test and see how you get along. I 
like your nerve; it’s refreshing after the usual 
whining of newcomers.” 

“Righto, skipper; that’ll do me,” was the 
answer. “I’m yours as soon as you give the 
signal.” 

“You think a morsel of yourself, don’t you?” 
Keeto remarked in his characteristically blunt 
fashion. He looked at the young fellow for a 
full minute without saying a word. Then he 
said: “You’ll get all that nonsense taken out 
of you if you remain on this ranch. It’s 
workers we want here, not boasters.” 

“I’m game to risk it, Mr. Keeto.” 

The foreman’s face broke into a grin as his 
eyes rested on a young mare that had never 
been ridden. Many had tried to break her in, 
but all had failed. He decided to test the 
boastful lad on this mare. Before giving him 
his final test, however, Keeto chided the youth 
almost to desperation. 







MANY HAD TRIED TO BREAK HER IN 



























96 


"Snowy” for Luck 


“What’s that blue ornament round your 
neck?” he asked, bringing his eyes back to 
the applicant for a position. “Is it to keep the 
flies from walking down your back, or the 
mosquitoes from biting you?” 

Keeto’s humor was crude; his manner was 
willfully irritating. If the youth had known 
him better he would have realized that the 
man was deliberately trying to irritate him; 
as it was he flushed under the taunt. 

“Be sure to keep it clean, now, lad,” the 
foreman cautioned. “You won’t get another 
one like it here. What is your name, anyhow ? ’ ’ 

“Charlie Addison,” the youth answered 
readily. It was evident that he did not relish 
the coarse raillery of Keeto. Nevertheless, he 
made no attempt to answer back. He merely 
stood there earnestly gazing at the man. 

The river boy interceded on behalf of 
Addison. 

“Let him alone, Buzz,” he said. “You were 
young yourself, once—a long time ago—and 
green, too. I remember the time when the 
cows used to chase you, thinking you were 
grass. You’re only trying to get him rattled.” 

“Mind your own affairs,” Keeto snapped. 




Snowy’s New Life 


97 


“I know what I am doing. Mr. Wilson wants 
the best, and I’m going to see that he gets it. 
I was born in the saddle, and, unless Addison 
can ride, he isn’t of any use here.” 

The fresh-faced youth looked his thanks to 
Snowy and then turned to Keeto, as if invit¬ 
ing further taunts. 

“You say you can ride, eh? Good. We’ll 
give you a trial,” said Keeto as he turned to 
one of the men. “Catch Molly and bring her 
around. This youngster says he can ride. I 
want him to show me.” 

“That’s a nice-looking little thing,” Addi¬ 
son remarked, as the horse was led up. 

A nice little thing! Molly was the queen of 
the stables, a thoroughbred, the best bit of 
horseflesh on the ranch—and the wildest. She 
never showed her temper until an attempt 
was made to ride her. Then her whole nature 
changed, and she became a terror. 

“She’s all right,” Keeto agreed, “and well- 
bred, too. But she isn’t any good to you, 
sonny. She’d buck you to pieces in less than 
a minute, and then dance on your remains. 
What do you know about horses, anyway?” 

Eric stepped forward to interfere, but 





‘SHE’S ALL RIGHT,” KEETO AGREED, 
“AND WELL-BRED, TOO.” 











Snowy’s New Life 


99 


Snowy held out a restraining hand. He saw 
the chance of some fun ahead, and he didn’t 
want it spoiled. Nevertheless, he flashed a 
warning to the newcomer. 

“She’s a regular bad ’un,” he said, with a 
sly glance at Keeto. “I wouldn’t advise you to 
try to ride her.” 

“I don’t mind trying,” Addison said, step¬ 
ping forward. “I don’t reckon it’s much to 
ride a buck-jumper. I’ve seen them at shows.” 

“I’ll tell you what,” Snowy said, again 
glancing at Keeto. “If you can sit on that 
mare for five minutes, I believe old Buzz— 
Mr. Keeto,” he corrected quickly, noticing the 
frown on the manager’s face, “I believe he d 
give you a job, with a good bonus thrown in 
for luck.” 

“I will,” Keeto agreed, grinning broadly. 
“If you can stick on Molly for five minutes, 
you’re right for permanent work. But, mind, 
I take no responsibility if anything happens. 
It isn’t any use your saying you’re hurt. We 
haven’t got time to run you into a doctor, 
either.” 

Addison walked over to the harness shed 
and picked out a saddle and bridle. Molly 





100 


"Snowy” for Luck 



stood like a lamb as he drew near to her. 
Without any difficulty he put on the bridle. 

“I don’t reckon she’s very wild,” he an¬ 
nounced, as he threw on the saddle and 
quickly buckled the girths. 

Molly began to plunge at the unfamiliar 
weight. 

“You’d better not try it, young man,” Keeto 
said, looking round to see that there was no 
sign of Mr. Wilson. 

He half regretted that he had suggested 
that Addison should ride Molly, but the new¬ 
comer was so boastful that he felt justified 







\ l 


/ 

MOLLY BUCKED—ONCE, TWICE, THRICEl 




102 "Snowy” for Luck. 

in taking him down a peg or two. He had 
expected the other to back out as soon as the 
horse was produced. 

“She’s a rough young thing,’’ he warned, 
“and it’s the off-season for funerals in these 
parts.’’ 

Charlie Addison disregarded the warning. 
He chose his time well. Awaiting a favorable 
opportunity, he put one foot in the stirrups, 
and in a trice was on Molly’s back. 

Keeto could not fail to notice the way he 
did it. He began to stare. 

Molly bucked—once, twice, thrice! She 
bucked worse than any other horse had ever 
bucked. It wasn’t merely pig-rooting, but 
real, honest-to-goodness, straight-out bucking. 
She seemed to know that something was ex¬ 
pected of her, and put her whole heart into 
trying to get rid of her rider. 

Addison stuck to her in a manner that as¬ 
tounded Keeto. The horse, tired after a while, 
eased a little, and then suddenly darted for¬ 
ward like a bullet from a rifle. 

She dashed past Snowy and Eric, and, 
clearing a little bridge, was soon flying over 
the plains. Some time later, Addison brought 




Snowy’s New Life 


103 


her back at a gentle canter, covered with 
foam, yet perfectly subdued. 

“Well, I’m bothered!” Keeto gasped, when 
he found his voice. “Who in the name of for¬ 
tune are you?” 

“Me? I’m Charlie Addison,” was the an¬ 
swer as the youth dismounted, patted the 
horse, and then calmly rearranged the blue 
handkerchief round his neck. 

“Charlie Addison!” Keeto exclaimed dis¬ 
gustedly. “That doesn’t mean a thing to me.” 

“It’s my name,” the youth declared. It was 
his turn to smile. “But I used to be known as 
Eddie Makepiece, the champion rough-rider 
of Jigger’s Circus. 

“You know Jigger’s Circus, sir,” he said, in¬ 
nocently. “It’s an off-shoot of Barnum and 
Bailey’s. I suppose I am engaged?” 

The manager swallowed dryly. Yes, 
there’s a job waiting for you. Anyone who 
can beat me isn’t too bad. 

“Thanks, Mr. Keeto.” Addison turned to 
Snowy. “I’ve seen you before, boy,” he re¬ 
marked. “Where was it?” 

“I was the boy who tried to ride the buck¬ 
jumping donkey of the show,” Snowy told 





"I WAS THE BOY WHO TRIED TO RIDE THE BUCK¬ 
JUMPING DONKEY.” 













Snowy’s New Life 


105 


him. “I’m Snowy, the river boy, and this is 
Eric Wilson, my friend.” 

The show was over, so Snowy and Eric 
again started on their way to the river. 

“My word, that was fine!” Eric exclaimed, 
as they walked down to the river and stepped 
into Snowy’s boat. 

“It just shows you how true the old saying 
is: ‘Never judge a book by its cover.’ I don’t 
know who first said that—Abraham Lincoln, 
I suppose.” 

‘‘Or Christopher Columbus,” Eric added 
wickedly. “No, Snowy, that’s a very old say¬ 
ing. But, couldn’t that fellow Addison ride! 
I’ll be able to do that some day,” he went on, 
determinedly. 




ERIC LEARNS TO ROW 


W 


CHAPTER 10 


E’LL go upstream,” Snowy sug¬ 
gested, when they were seated. “I want to 
give you a lesson in rowing, and you will get 
more practice pulling against the current than 
going with it. Then, when you’re tired, we’ll 
just drift back.” 


Eric was an apt pupil, and he soon could 
turn the boat this way or that as desired 
merely by working the oars. Snowy was 
pleased with his progress. 

“You’re a great lad,” he said, “and I’m glad 
that I decided to—to—” 

You haven’t forsaken the river, Snowy,” 
Eric said, noticing the look of disappointment 
on his friend s face. “When you have com¬ 
pleted your studies you will be its master.” 

Snowy brightened up. “When I’m finished 
with you, Eric, there won’t be a thing along 
the river to scare you. I’m glad I took you in 
hand.” 


106 



‘SH-H! I HEAR SOMEONE TALKING,*’ HE WHISPERED. 





108 


"Snowy” for Luck 


“I’ll be a river boy, too,” was Eric s excited 
remark. “There will be two of us.” 

“That’s right,” Snowy conceded. “Pull into 
that little cove, and we’ll have a bite or two to 
eat. You can’t beat the river for giving one an 
appetite. I’m that hungry I could eat a horse, 
if it were served up properly.” 

Eric was hungry too, but he did not say any¬ 
thing, yet Snowy had scarcely laid out the 
sandwiches they had collected from the kit¬ 
chen when the boy began to eat. 

Snowy was well versed in river lore, and 
soon had his young friend interested in stories 
about Indians and trappers and wild affairs 
of earlier days. Eric had burst into loud laugh¬ 
ter at one of the stories, when Snowy suddenly 
held up a hand for silence. 

“Sh-h! I heard someone talking,” he whis¬ 
pered. “You stay here while I have a look.” 

He was away so long that Eric became 
anxious, and was about to go in search of him 
when the river boy returned. 

“Into the boat, quick,” Snowy urged. 
“There’s a gang of roughs camped on the other 
side of the ridge. They are making direct for 
your father’s place to steal some of his prize 
cattle. We’ll get back and warn him.” 






“THEY ARE MAKING DIRECT FOR YOUR 
FATHER’S PLACE.” 


110 


"Snowy” for Luck. 


“It’s certainly lucky you heard them. Snowy 
for luck, again! Shall I row?” said Eric. 

The river boy smiled at his young friend’s 
eagerness. “You’d better let me do it this 
time, old chap. We cannot afford to waste any 
time. Your turn will come.” 

Eric saw the wisdom of Snowy’s reasoning 
and, with a sigh, allowed his friend to take the 
oars. In an hour’s time they were back at home 
informing Mr. Wilson of the contemplated 
raid. 

“I rowed up the river to the spot,” Eric 
proudly told his father. 

“Good boy,” said Mr. Wilson encourag¬ 
ingly and then turned to his manager. “We 
must beat them, Keeto. What do you sug¬ 
gest?” 

“I think I know the cattle they’re after, Mr. 
Wilson. Will you leave this to me? If I fail, 
you won’t see Buzz on the ranch again.” 

“1 will be glad to leave it to you though I 
would like to help,” replied Mr. Wilson. 

“You can trust me, sir,” Keeto said. “I’ll 
watch your interests faithfully.” 

“It isn’t that,” Mr. Wilson hurriedly ex¬ 
plained. “I don’t want you to run all the 
risk.” 











112 "Snowy” for Luck 

“There won’t be any risk. 111 send Addi¬ 
son, the new man, to bring that bunch of cattle 
right into the enclosure, so that the herd will 
be under our eyes. We’ll give these raiders 
something to make them think.” He looked 
towards Snowy. “I’ll take Snowy with me, 
if you don’t mind. Eric will look after things 
at this end,” he added, diplomatically. 

“Yes, you must not take all our men, Mr. 
Wilson agreed. “We must have someone to 
watch over us.” 

Keeto did not remain long with them. In¬ 
structing Addison and another hand regard¬ 
ing the herd of cattle, he took Snowy with 
him. In his mind’ he was fighting a great 
battle. He was torn between two things. He 
could either play Mr. Wilson false and lead 
the raiders to the cattle, later sharing in the 
proceeds, or he could act honorably towards 
his employer, who, he knew, trusted him im¬ 
plicitly. 

“I’ll beat them,” he said aloud; and Snowy, 
understanding something of what was going 
on in the man’s mind, took no notice of the 
remark. 

They followed the course of the stream, hid- 






THEY FOLLOWED THE COURSE OF THE STREAM. 












114 "Snowy” for Luck. 

ing themselves as much as possible, for it was 
still light. 

“You did us a great service, boy,” Keeto re¬ 
marked to Snowy during a pause. “If we 
hadn’t known about the raiders we wouldn’t 
have been prepared, and the cattle would 
probably have been lost. As it is —” 

“Never mind, Buzz,” Snowy returned un¬ 
graciously. “What I did, I did, and that’s the 
end of it. Young Eric is a great boy. I’d do 
anything for him.” 

“Do you know why I brought you along 
with me, boy?” Keeto asked after a while. 

“Do I know? Of course I do. To keep you 
company in case you got lonely,” Snowy sug¬ 
gested. “To hold your hand when the fight 
begins. In fact, Buzz, to look after you. What 
else would you want me for? Seriously,” the 
boy added, “I’m with you because we are 
friends.” 

“You’re not far wrong,” Keeto agreed. “I 
brought you with me to back me up. There, 
I’ve told you. What do you think?” 

“That you did the right thing, Buzz, old 
fellow.” Snowy glanced towards the river. 
“It’s a big thing to give up the old life. Some¬ 
how, I can’t just say how it all came about.” 





115 


Eric Learns To Row 


“It came about,” Keeto said earnestly, “be¬ 
cause Mr. Wilson and his lad are so decent 
that you can’t help yourself. Even the worst 
of us has something good inside, you know. 
Listen to me preaching to you, boy.” 

“Do you know what always kept me pretty 
straight, Buzz? It was Christopher Columbus. 
Go on, laugh; but it’s true. He was and is my 
hero. I wish I’d been born a couple of hun¬ 
dred years earlier so that there were a few 
countries left to explore.” 

“There are still the Moon and Mars,” Keeto 
suggested. “Anything is possible these days. 
What with radio, and flying, and automobiles, 
and submarines, I wouldn’t be surprised if 
some day some daring young fellow—just like 
you, Snowy—doesn t set out to see what is 
doing in those other worlds. Come on; we’d 
better be moving. We’ve slackened down 
while we talked. We’ve got to beat these 
raiders.” 

Keeto need not have worried. Under the 
capable guidance of Charlie Addison, the 
youth he had thought to be a greenhorn, the 
cattle were rounded up and brought into safe¬ 
ty. When the raiders appeared they were 





wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww 

greeted by a ring of determined-looking men. 
Details of the raid, which they thought to be 
secret, had become known! Thanks to the 
river boy and young Eric, Mr. Wilson had not 
lost a single head of cattle. 

Snowy’s luck was still holding. Once again 
he had reason to be thankful for his white 
hair. Snowy for luck! 






“BUT THE INDIANS REFUSED TO HAVE ANYTHING 
TO DO' WITH IT.” 


D 


ERIC GOES EXPLORING 

CHAPTER 11 


O YOU know, Snowy, the historic 


spot where Columbus landed is not liked by 
the Indians?” asked Eric one morning several 
days after the attempted cattle raid. He knew 
his friend s weakness for Columbus and often 


117 



118 "Snowy” for Luck 

wwwww w wwwwwwwww 

told him things that he had read about the 
great seaman. 

“Why?” asked the boy, eager to learn any¬ 
thing pertaining to his hero. 

“It was suggested that a home for aged 
Indians be built upon the spot,” Eric ex¬ 
plained, “but the Indians refused to have any¬ 
thing to do with it. They think the place is 
unlucky, because it was the spot where the 
whites first landed in America.” 

“Rubbish,” Snowy snapped. “It was the 
best day’s work that ever happened when Co¬ 
lumbus landed on American soil. He had a 
lot to put up with, remember. But he stuck 
to it, just as I’m going to stick to my studies. 
I’m going to get my river pilot’s certificate in 
spite of everything.” 

“That’s the way to talk. About the Indians, 
though,” said Eric wisely, “they think—” 

“What does it matter what a few of them 
think? If Christopher Columbus hadn’t dis¬ 
covered America someone else would have.” 
There was a note of finality in the boy’s words. 
“What do you say to our doing a bit of explor¬ 
ing?” he suggested after a moment or two of 
thought. “There are plenty of places along 




Eric Goes Exploring 


119 


the river not yet properly examined. Who 
knows, we might find something really good. 
We could take my tent and camp out.” 

“I should like to, but I’m afraid Father and 
Mother wouldn’t be willing.” 

“Why?” demanded Snowy. “You’d be all 
right with me. You can ride, and row and 
even swim a little—and fight, too, I reckon, 
if there was need for it. Where’s the danger?” 

“I don’t know. I’ll ask them,” Eric de¬ 
clared; but his tone did not seem too hopeful. 
“They can only say no. Where would we go?” 

“About a mile up the stream there’s a won¬ 
derful little tributary. It is too small for big 
craft, but we could do it in our boat. I haven’t 
been along it for a long time.” 

Eric lost no time in asking permission to ac¬ 
company his friend. Mrs. Wilson shook her 
head, and glanced at her husband, hoping he 
would refuse the request. She didn’t like the 
idea of her young son leaving her for any 
length of time. Camping out at nights, with 
only Snowy’s tent to shelter him from the 
weather! She saw innumerable difficulties and 
dangers. 

Not so Mr. Wilson. “Let the boy go,” he 



120 


"Snowy” for Luck 


said. “It will be a wonderful experience for 
him; one that will be invaluable to him in after 
life.” 

“You’ll take care of him,” Mrs. Wilson 
pleaded, looking at Snowy. 

“I’ll guard him all right,” Snowy asserted. 
“As I would my own brother. He’s a plucky 
boy. You needn’t worry on his account, 
ma’am.” 

The following morning, dressed in their old¬ 
est clothes, with no lunch except a loaf of 
bread and some butter, the boys were on the 
river. Needless to say, Eric was excited, but 
he did his best to hide this from Snowy. 

Without any mishap they reached the little 
tributary Snowy had spoken of. Along this 
they went until they came to a little rocky 
peninsula where they decided to rest. They 
had not been long there before a big, burly 
man appeared. His eyes opened with amaze¬ 
ment. 

“Why,” he exclaimed, “if it isn’t Wilson’s 
kid—and Snowy,” he added catching sight of 
the river boy. “This is luck. There is such a 
thing as holding valuable young fellows like 
you for ransom, I believe. You beat us with 







THE FOLLOWING MORNING THE BOYS WERE 
ON THE RIVER. 










122 "Snowy” for Luck 

the cattle, but you’re not going to get the 
better of me this time.” 

For the first time in his life Eric saw Snowy 
in a real fighting mood. Without a word, he 
darted forward and butted the intruder heav¬ 
ily in the stomach. The man was taken by 
surprise. He had not given a thought to a pos¬ 
sible attack. As he fell groaning to the ground 
the two boys darted forward. 

“Into the boat, Eric,” Snowy shouted. “And 
lie low, in case he shoots; but I don’t think he 
will. At heart he’s a coward.” 

Two mighty pulls brought the boat well 
away from the bank, and by the time the man 
staggered forward the boys were almost in 
midstream, rowing rapidly with the current. 

“I promised your mother I’d look after 
you,” Snowy murmured. “We’d better get 
back. I didn’t bargain to meet such wild men 
as our friend back there.” 

Silently Eric looked back. Perhaps Snowy 
was right! All the same, it was hard to have 
to forego the trip on which he had set his 
heart. Still, he had enjoyed every moment of 
what he had had. He had gone from the main 
stream along the little tributary, and he had 
certainly met excitement tinged with danger. 

































124 


"Snowy” for Luck 


Soon they were back on the river, being car¬ 
ried down by the swiftly-moving current. 

“Home!” Eric let out a joyous cry. 

After all, home was the best place, with his 
parents, his friends, and his pets. 

“Study for you tomorrow, Snowy,” he 
teased, as they tied up the boat. “You’ve got 
to make good.” 

Snowy’s chin went out determinedly. “I’m 
going to,” he declared. 

Snowy had definitely made up his mind to 
be a river pilot. His determination kept him 
at his studies through many long hours when 
the river was calling to him. He just must pass 
his examinations. Back to his studies he 
would bring his roving mind. 

For five years Snowy lived with the Wil¬ 
sons. He kept his object always before him 
and his studies always came first. 




SNOWY MAKES GOOD 

I CHAPTER 12 

T WAS a beautiful morning. The grass, 
spread over the plains like a huge carpet of 
green, was wet with early morning dew. The 
river was in flood. Great trees, torn up by 
the roots, made it very dangerous for shipping. 

But the captain of one large steamer had 
decided to risk it; he appeared to be sure of 
every point. His vessel was loaded with 
cargo, and he carried many passengers. Be¬ 
hind, he towed three barges, also laden with 
goods of every kind. 

Everything about the steamer was new. Its 
brasswork was bright and shining. Its decks 
were spotless. At the wheel was the captain* 
a youth of about eighteen years. 

It was Snowy, as lucky as ever. Young 
though he was, he had won his captain’s li¬ 
cense and was piloting his own boat. With 


125 



BEHIND, THE CAPTAIN TOWED THREE BARGES. 


















127 



HE WAVED HIS CAP TO SOMEONE ON THE BANK. 


Mr. Wilson’s aid he had studied hard and this 
was the result. 

As he passed the places all so familiar to 
him, his thoughts went back to the time when 
he had sailed that course in a small, open boat. 

He passed by the old barge, still stout and 
strong, and he recalled his old friend, Ancient, 
and his sad story. 









128 


"Snowy” for Luck 


A little farther along was a big house. As 
the vessel drew near, the captain handed over 
the wheel to a sailor, while Snowy climbed to 
the highest point and waved his cap to some¬ 
one on the bank. 

An answering wave came back from the 
bank, and across the strip of water came the 
cry from Eric, who, though older, still re¬ 
garded the river boy as his hero. 

I knew you’d do it. Good old Snowy, you 
were always lucky. Snowy for luck!” 






















































































































